Proposition
by Lovelorn Lindsey
Summary: It's been quite some time since Julien was in Madagascar, with all those lovely ladies-and sometimes gentlemen-falling over him, ready to sate his every desire, but now his only lemur plebeians are Mort and Maurice, and they simply will not do. Skip/Jul
1. Proposition

**Title: **Proposition**  
Fandom: **Penguins of Madagascar**  
Pairing(s): **Julien/Skipper, one sided Private/Skipper**  
Warning: **Sex scene, homosexuality, interspecies, furries**  
Rated:** M for Mature**  
Summary:** It's been quite some time since Julien was in Madagascar, with all those lovely ladies and sometimes gentlemen falling over him, ready to sate his every desire, but now his only lemur plebeians are Mort and Maurice, and they simply will not do.

* * *

The sun was settling beyond the horizon, the sky painted yellow and pink; the lemurs, being nocturnal mammals, were becoming increasingly rowdy with anticipation for the closing of the zoo. "Get ready…" Julien beamed wolfishly, his finger lingering over the 'on' button to his boom box. Alice the zookeeper closed the gates and Julien immediately pressed the switch.

_**BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!**_

The music loud and wholly grating, enough to tear through the thickest of earmuffs; the fauna covered their ears (if they had any); having learned that yelling only caused the lemur to raise the volume. Skipper, however, had yet to discover any such thing, or was too stubborn to allow Julien to continue. "Canned Tuna in water! Turn down that racket." The penguin ordered furiously, throwing a flipper harshly in the bounding lemurs' direction.

Maurice hurried to turn the music down, and both Julien and Mort paused in their euphoric bop. "Wha – who?" the lemur king turned and instantly caught sight of the twitching bird. "OH, _hello_, neighbor." He said with a little more affection than needed, tapping his fingers together. Maurice was the first to pick it up and he swiveled onto Julien in confusion. Julien gave him a frightening stare, seemingly to convey, "Don't say words."

"Oh…" Maurice paused. He chuckled nervously, and, taking Mort by the scruff of his neck, backed away. "Hey, we're gonna go get you some popcorn, your majesty."

"_What_?" Julien hissed, glowering as his right hand man's diminishing tail. Some right hand man.

"Yay! Popcorn!" Mort cried with good cheer, jerking his petite legs as Maurice hopped away. "Bye-bye, King Julien! Miss you!"

Finding himself alone with the penguin, Julien turned to eye the bird, maintaining a self-important outer surface while hiding an uneasy core. "You are to be listening up, flightless bird," he began a little more harshly than he had intended, but proceeded anyway. "A king can be doing whatever a king wants to be doing. So, shut up." He flourished a paw through the air superficially, then placed in back upon his hips.

"I don't think so, lower mammal." Skipper replied, raising a brow at the somehow unusual performance surrounding the lemur, but he didn't know how or why, and, as a result, failed to dwell on it any more than he really should have. "Don't you _get it_," Skipper tapped his flippers against his flat skull. "This is a _democratic_ government, and I don't recall voting _you_ into office."

"Voting?" Julien snorted, "I am a KING, no one voted, I was born dis amazing." He pointed to his face, his grin rising as Skipper peered up as if he were considering it.

"No."

"No?"

"NO. The only kings that _exist _live in fairy tales and England." The flat-topped military penguin sneered while Julien's smile dimmed significantly. Skipper placed his flippers at his middle, mimicking Julien, in a way.

The lemur monarch "humph"ed, his yellow eyes narrowing as a pouting fit rose like acidic bile in his throat. Then, he thought of an awful idea. A terribly awful idea, but one that would get him what he wanted, so it had some good in it, too. For him, anyway. "I am betting that you would enjoy a whole month without me, or my music." He added slyly.

Skipper's face turned blank as he twisted it around in his head. Of course he could do without Julien for a whole month, but what was the catch? "That depends. What do you want for it?"

Julien bit his lip (or ya know, whatever) and tapped his paws together, mulling it over. There was only one thing he really wanted – and it was something he hadn't experienced since his days in Madagascar, when all the females (and males) had found him the most attractive thing in the forest. Now that Julien found someone other than himself eye-catching, the one that had caught his eye did not return those feelings. "What about…" he began, glancing over the penguin for a minute, and looking away just as quickly. "Um, a, uh, _favor_."

"What kind of _favor_ are you suggesting?" Skipper inquired, ever vigilant.

"You know where de babies come from?" Julien countered with another question, to which Skipper nodded, not liking where this was headed. "Something like that, except between _you _and _I_."

Skipper stared, understandably confused. "Pardon?"

Julien worried his paws. "…You know." He believed that was a maybe.

"Two months." Skipper demanded, glaring doggedly. He wasn't in favor of this proposal, he merely sought for Julien to acknowledge there was better deal.

"One and a half!"

"Three months!"

"Deal."

"…oh."

"See? I am willing to do de negotiating. Is it a deal?" Julien's grin returned to full blast, his small, razor teeth reflecting soft light from the lamps.

Skipper huffed, and scoffed. "Just, keep it down, lemur." He hissed and sped away, in too much of a hurry to hear what Julien bellowed at his retreating backside. Once at his enclosure, he lingered at the opening under the fish bowl. Was Julien serious? He would like to believe the he wasn't, but there was that resolute sparkle in the lemur's eyes. And, he had to ask himself, was it worth it at all? A night of…he couldn't even think about what that entailed.

"Was that a yes, flight—uh, Skipper?" Julien cried after him, almost desperately.

Skipper disregarded the proclaimed monarch of the lemurs and, instead, hurried into the HQ. His boys were still asleep, their earmuffs fastened tight. It was a wonder how they could sleep so soundly—Private groaned and turned onto his back, looking disturbed—maybe not so soundly. The leader sighed and waddled closer, reaching up and chastely covering the young soldier's stomach with the blanket.

Immediately, Private smiled and mumbled something that sounded like "Skippah," but paid it no heed, in fact, he felt he might have hallucinated it. He was dead tired, in any case. But there was something he had to talk about with Kowalski. He heaved himself up over the lip of the top bunk and hissed, "Kowalski!" past his flipper.

Said penguin grumbled, his brows making an angry 'V' over his closed eyes. "Nn…no, the hypotenuse is too large…"

Skipper raised a brow, jabbing poor Kowalski in the stomach. "Kowalski."

"Huh?" Kowalski turned to face an irate looking Skipper. "Oh, hello Skipper, what—"

"SHH, turn down the scream machine, Kowalski, Private and Rico are still sleeping. Let's keep it that way."

Perturbed, Kowalski nodded, and whispered, "What's wrong, sir? You appear troubled." Skipper strained himself to keep from averting his eyes from Kowalski's. If he happened to look away, Kowalski, ever the observant bird, would know something was up.

"No, no. Except," he paused, gazing pensively at his inferior. "Let's be hypothetical."

"Hypothetical? Of course." All of his suspicions vanished and he grinned. Theoretics were something he excelled in. "Go ahead."

"Okay, let's say there are two magnets who have reverse polarities." Skipper began, holding his flippers out and tried to bring them together unsuccessfully, as Kowalski nodded compellingly. "One magnet—let's call him Jul, uh, Jasper—proposed a proposition to the second magnet—let's call this one Ski—" Kowalski looked on expectantly. "Andinavia. Scandinavia."

"Okay, Skipper, but how do magnets propose anything to one another? They are inanimate objects, without thoughts, or life. Sir, I—"

"I _said_ it's rhetorical." Skipper interrupted, shaking a flipper.

"Sir, though I'd hate to disagree, I _do_ believe you said it was hypothetical, not rhetorical. You see, hypothetical ideas are—"

"_Whatever_, it doesn't matter. Now, may I continue or not?"

"Sorry, Skipper, yes." Kowalski looked down, abashed, and leaned on the bend of his wing. "It was rude of me to cut you short."

Skipper waved the apology away with objection, but persisted. "So this Jasper proposed a proposition to Scandinavia. Scandinavia is cautious about this, it's not something he likes or even wants to do, but the reward is great. If he goes through with it, then Jasper will leave him alone for a few months. What do you think I, er, Scandinavia should do?"

Kowalski, during this time, had taken out his options clipboard and had written furiously, glancing up every now and then to see Skipper's upsetting stare. "Sir, without great sacrifice, there is no great reward." he advised, "If this...Scandinavia..." Kowalski said the word as if he knew something Skipper didn't, "finds the situation to be too uncomfortable, well, then he should _refuse_."

"But, consider this," Skipper barreled on, "Scandinavia has a few friends who dislike Jasper just as much as he does. And he thinks that—in the best interest of his team—that he should go ahead and do it."

Ignoring the fact that they were speaking of magnets as if they were live, intelligent beings, Kowalski give the impression of being thoughtful for a moment, though he just happened to say whatever was on his mind at the moment. "Objectively, I see where you're coming from Skipper. I think the question Scandinavia needs to ask himself is: would it be worth it?"

For an instant, Skipper chewed that around in his mind, perpetuating it until the point of insanity and he sighed. "Thank you, Kowalski, that was very…insightful."

"My pleasure, sir." Kowalski beamed.

Skipper slid into his carved out nook, waiting for the heavy breathing that signified slumber. When all was quiet, Skipper carefully stole from his habitat and back to Julien's. "Julien?" he whispered, then peeked up into the lemur's throne. "Julien!" he said, a bit harsher.

Julien fell from the high chair, flat on his face. "OW, geezies, Maurice, can you not be seeing dat I am…oh." For a reason Skipper refused to look further into, Julien brightened considerably. "Ah, Skipper! Hello, neighbor!"

"Hmph." Skipper returned. "All right, _ringtail_," the word tasted sour on his tongue, "I'll take you up on your offer. Not now!" he yelled as Julien inched closer to him, and knocked him flat on his bottom. "_Tomorrow_, in the HQ. I'll get rid of the boys and you meet me there at twenty-hundred hours."

"…um."

Skipper sighed, slumping a little. "Eight p.m."

"Oh, no problem, I knew that. I was just testing your birdie brain, duh."

"Right…"

With such, Skipper departed from the lemur enclosure, an ill feeling in his stomach, anxiously awaiting the next day to disappear.

* * *

A/N: Sex in the next chapter.


	2. The Act

**Title: **Proposition**  
Fandom: **Penguins of Madagascar**  
Pairing(s): **Julien/Skipper, one sided Private/Skipper**  
Warning: **Sex scene, homosexuality, interspecies, furries, rimming**  
Summary:** It's been quite some time since Julien was in Madagascar, with all those lovely ladies and sometimes gentlemen falling over him, ready to sate his every desire, but now his only lemur plebeians are Mort and Maurice, and they simply will not do.

* * *

That next night, Skipper sent his boys out to play three-way capture the flag, promising he'd be there as soon as he was done. He didn't even give them an explanation, just threw them out and waited.

Now, Julien sat next to him and he had no idea why he had decided to do…_this_. Even after Kowalski's advice. Skipper snorted, some advice. Skipper was content just to sit on the uncomfortably hard ground all night and stare at his wings rather than at Julien.

Julien held his breath as Skipper edgily played with his flippers in an attempt to occupy his rootless mind. It was becoming apparent that the lemur would need to make the first awkward move. The sovereign inched towards the flightless bird, who found the immediacy unsettling. Nevertheless, he didn't move. The transaction was prepared, and a good penguin did _not_ go back on his word; damn his principles.

_Come on, Skipper, get it together; _the leader penguin fortified himself, clenching his flippers and pulling a look of acquiescent resolve. "Okay!" he shouted unexpectedly.

A little disconcerted, Julien reared back, blinking sporadically, brows raised. "Okay what."

Instantaneously, all of the assurance Skipper had hoarded over the past instant drained from his face, leaving him pale and anxious. He exhaled noisily and propped his head flippantly upon his flipper. "_You know_." He sneered ardently.

The asserted ruler's face knotted into expectation and dithering reservation as he slapped Skipper's back agreeably. "OH-ho-ho; you eager beaver penguin." Julien wormed his brows and tail with interest. "Uh, well?"

Skipper ogled. "Well _what_?"

It was Julien's turn to be frustrated. "On your belly, of course." A thought arose and his grin turned into a lecherous one. Skipper noticed the glint behind the lemur's gaze, but couldn't quite identify the origin. "Unless it is the foreplay you are wanting; I warn you, though, I am very skilled at the foreplay."

A shudder ran up and down Skipper's backbone. "Let's just…get _this_…over with." Skipper unenthusiastically twisted onto his rotund stomach in an unbecoming show of submission that mammals like Julien craved. His breath was deafening in his ear canals, and he held his skull. _Expect the worst, _he told himself, wiggling his small tail in apprehension.

Julien resisted the itching impulse to dive in right then, and instead took it upon himself to 'ready' his abiding suitor. Instinctually, Julien was an inquisitive little thing, and, he thought, what better way to lubricate his partner than with saliva. He leaned forward, allured by a smell that was not as appalling as he'd imagined, most pointedly at the base of Skipper's tail. He stuck his tongue out and experimentally lapped at the tight ring of sinew, jeering while Skipper yelped.

"WHAT in pity's sake are you doing?" Skipper snarled, attempting to conceal the quiver in his voice. God, it was a repulsive experience (or so he told himself), and he buried his flat top with his flippers.

"Well, duh, preparing, unless you want to go dry." For emphasis, Julien ran a purposely slippery path over the penguin's rear. When Skipper failed to respond, he took it as the go-ahead.

He spit plentifully, and then probed his tongue into the penguin's anus. Thank God, Skipper was a penguin, always in nice, clean water. He didn't taste half-bad, but he only explored as far as Skipper's insides would tolerate a tongue to go. He pulled out, pleased that he had lubed his bed buddy adequately, and substituted his tongue with his fingers. "Now, just be limpy, mm'kay, and it'll hurt only a bitty-bit."

"Oh, yeah, okay." Skipper muttered, threateningly sardonic. He just about pulled away when Julien's inquisitive fingers felt up and into his entrails. Irritably, and most feebly, he tried to do as Julien insisted. Limp, he told himself, flaccid. Only, it wasn't going so well, until he felt the scorching, damp breath alongside the right surface of his cranium. "…" So freaked out by what was going on, he lay frozen.

"Don't be such a sticking in the mud." Julien crowed unkindly, scissoring his fingers tenderly. After all, there was much more in store. It really would not do a great deal of good to institute a struggle now, anyway. "I said be limpy, geeze, do you want it to be all hurty?"

The penguin growled under his breath, wanting to hammer a flipper into the side of that mammal's twisting muzzle. That would show him. Nevertheless, the counsel was effective, and it was not as disagreeable as he'd anticipated. When Julien believed Skipper was ready, he did another toggle, this time exchanging his fingers for his shaft, which he slithered against the stretched halo of muscle courteously. He didn't want to _hurt_ the penguin, but to begin, he would have to. "Um, okie-dokie, dis'll be just a pinch! Oh, who am I kidding, it's gonna hurt for a few days."

With such, he popped the tip of his penis in and waited for the expected bawl. This by no means came, thanks to Skipper's tough militaristic training. The penguin clenched his chops and he enfolded both wings around his beak with eyes shut taut. He was growling in pain. Julien felt dreadful but he went unrelentingly in – not without sympathy – until he arrived at the hilt. "Just, uh, tell me when I should move. When it hurts the leastest, 'kay?" he grumbled, it was hard to resist his instincts.

Skipper only grunted, finding it curious for Julien to think of someone other than himself – of course, that sensibility must have flown the habitat following such a suggestion as this. An entire _three months_ without Julien? Paradise! But at what price? It was too late to lament, Skipper was well aware, however, that revelation didn't stop him. Not at all. It might've even made him brood harder.

After a few moments, Skipper groaned, "O-okay, go ahead."

Julien sighed in reprieve; every minute had been an HOUR. And it'd only been a few seconds. Gradually, ever so gradually, he withdrew, and then pressed back in, figuring the slow and steady approach would be favorable for the both of them. The lemurs back at Madagascar weren't as delicate. Penguins were different, he supposed. They were birds and Julien highly doubted these four explicit penguins had ever been touched this way before, especially not Skipper, who seemed astute, but unmindful to Marlene's alluring advances.

The whines of pain were morphing into something else, something less…well, hard to listen to. Frankly, they sounded like Skipper was _enjoying_ it. A fact Julien took great delight in – at least the silly penguin was getting something, too. The lemur took his time sliding out, then back in. He leaned over his dear Skipper's level head and murmured, "Faster?"

Utterly mortified, yet aroused, Skipper nodded noiselessly. Julien was ecstatic, and he heeded his partner's request excitedly. Julien's ears pricked at every beck and call from the lead penguin's bill, merry to be the one giving Skipper this poignant bliss. "…Urk, a little…" Skipper panted.

Upset, Julien slowed, much to his partner's annoyance. "What?"

"F…" Skipper stared malignantly at the wall, thinking _for sweet Mother McArthur's sake; do not make me say it._

"Huh?"

"**FASTER**, you jerk, okay?!" Skipper veiled his cobalt eyes shamefully. Julien frowned at the understandable shiver in the penguin's tone. In a less callous tenor, and in the throws of passion, Julien was liable to bend forward to pet and, with any luck, put the leader at some ease. In any other situation, Skipper would have slapped this intruder into the middle of next week, but he reserved this for some other time. As Julien complied with enthusiasm, Skipper tried to ignore to whom it was he was giving his virginity to and enjoy it. He doubted this would lead to another such encounter with anyone else. "_Idiot._" Skipper hissed, trying not to enjoy it as much as he was.

After a few moments, Skipper just let go, not seeing the point in wanting to be miserable, and moaned a little louder than he had been previously. Julien's ears flew up over his head and he grinned like a lunatic. Sensually, he murmured a little something dirty into where he assumed his playmate's ears were. Skipper only huffed crossly in reply, hiding an approving smirk.

Julien bit his tongue as his pace accelerated, his features twisted in bliss. Skipper's own face had contorted the same way, albeit was clouded by a thin visage of hopeless misery one would feel after such an endeavor. One last thrust and Julien's sperm filled the penguin's insides. Panting, Julien fell over his partner with a satisfied smile. After a few moments, the king pulled out, leaving Skipper feeling a little empty after such a long tryst.

"…Tha-ank you, Skipper." Julien gasped for air, curling over Skipper. From previous occasions, his partners appreciated cuddling. From the way Skipper was twitching, he wasn't one of them.

"What're you doing?" the penguin asked, fatigued.

"Um, cuddling?"

"…oh, well, I'm not exactly big on touching."

"…"

"Which means let go."

"OH." Julien hopped away, embarrassed, and tucking his penis back into its sheath. He winced as Skipper struggled to sit up. "You may be a little on the tender side." Skipper eyed him warily. "For a while." Skipper still stared, brow raised. "Quite a while. Lookie, I have some of this numby gel stuff at my habitat," Julien offered, "I could bring it over—"

"_No thanks_, mammal," the penguin interrupted disrespectfully. "I can take it. A little ache is nothing." Skipper cringed as he made to his feet, being calculatingly deceitful. Julien looked unconvinced, but he didn't dispute.

"Okie dokie, whatever." The lemur shrugged dismissively, prohibiting his concern to carve a niche in his tone. "I'm going home, I'm sleepy."

"You do that." Skipper intoned, turning his back to the lemur. Julien paused, glanced at the reddening surface below the penguin's tail, but left through the tunnel behind 'Private's First Prize' trophy. Julien was insanely exhausted, his face matching Skipper's somewhat grim features. Once the nocturnal mammal left, Skipper allowed himself to groan in disgust and pain. Until the trophy swung back open and the rest of the penguins entered, all excitedly talking amongst themselves; Rico swallowed the pole and flag for their training exercise, whilst Private and Kowalski prattled on to Skipper of their successes.

Skipper plastered on a smirk, pretending to listen, but really trying to forget the burning sensation in his hard to reach places. "Well, boys, I think it's about time we hit the hay."

"Aw, already? Bu' it's only six a'clock." Private whined softly. Kowalski and Rico nodded in agreement, Kowalski hoping to continue calculating an important problem (or slip out to see Doris), and Rico had a fish-dinner-date with his doll. Rico stole a glance across the room to his blond haired plastic Barbie with a dreamy smile.

"Ah, alright, but I have to lie down." Skipper groaned, waddling drowsily across the floor and sliding into the lowest carved out stone bed. "'Night, boys."

"Uh, night, Skipper." Kowalski hummed sympathetically, and Private replicated his elder distractedly. When they heard heavy breathing, the penguins joined at the center of the room. "Something is terribly wrong."

Rico grunted and nodded, raising his head to peer over at Skipper's sleeping form. Something was off, he knew, but he couldn't be sure what. That was Kowalski's job, in any case, but it didn't stop him from worrying.

"Wot d'you think it could be, K'walski?" Private asked innocently, obviously very worried. "D'you think he may be _sick_?"

"Technically, maybe." The tallest penguin perked a brow pleasantly, "Though he didn't appear unwell this morning. Well, until Skipper asked to converse with Julien alone."

Private took a sharp intake of breath, "D'you think Julien said something?"

Rico chuckled at the immaturity, shaking his head dramatically. Kowalski had to agree. "Skipper isn't the type to let anything that lemur said get to him…of course, I could always be wrong." He mumbled, "I have been before."

"Maybe Marlene would know." Private suggested lamely with a yielding smile.

Kowalski raised a brow. "Perhaps, seems like a sound proposal. But are you suggesting we honestly leave Skipper here alone?"

"One of us could stay." Private recommended, playing himself up as one who would do good at protection. Kowalski smirked placidly as Rico laughed cheekily. "I – uh – I could do it. I mean…if ya think ya don't need me.

"I expect we could do without you, and Skipper." Kowalski stood straight, towering over Private's tiny frame. "What do you think, Rico?"

"Uh-huh." Rico nodded, still beaming, and just a little apprehensive with the idea of leaving the youngest, least mature of the three with their leader. But he was the explosives guy, and there was a fair chance Kowalski would need him.

"If Skipper awakens while we're out, Private, tell him we, uh, we went to see Marlene."

"Bu', isn't that wochur actually doin'?"

"Well, yes, but don't tell him _why_ we went to see Marlene. Naturally."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh. Okay."

Kowalski and Rico shared a look, one that happened to pass Private by without notice. "Guard him with your _life_." Kowalski uttered finally, with a bit more infatuation than considered necessary, shaking his wing at Private in an almost intimidating manner. Rico raised his brow, taken aback by the tone, chuckling and rubbing the back of his head.

Private, like the little soldier he was, saluted. "Yes, sir, K'walski!" Kowalski, satisfied, left the way he came, pursued closely by Rico. Once the two had gone, Private took it upon himself to tidy their HQ up, knowing quite well that would make Skipper pleased. He pattered around quietly, picking things up and putting them away. Then he happened upon an odd sticky spot on the cement floor. He huffed, feeling it must have been Rico's doing. The spot was opaque and he pulled a mop out of a nearby carved out closet like room. As he began to mop it up, Skipper stirred, groaning, and beginning to rethink Julien's numbing gel offer.

"Ah, 'ello Skippeh." Private smiled merrily. "Wasn't able ta sleep well?"

Skipper started, for some reason believing he was alone, and turned, immediately regretting his sudden movement. Ouch, he burned and he realized he was dripping. "I jes' foun' this stuff here, so I'm cleanin' it up." Private eyed the liquid leaking from Skipper. "Hey, that's jes' like…"

"LISTEN, uh, listen, Private," Skipper coughed warily, looking at the opened trophy exit/entrance. "I think I need you to…uh, go get me some fish."

"It's not feedin' time Skippeh."

"…well, then…" Skipper stared, still leaking, and cringed as Private gawked candidly. "Ice cream?"

"Oh, boy!" Private squealed. "Okay, sir." He saluted his leader, then slipped through tunnel, leaving Skipper very happily alone.

"Oh, smoked salmon." He groaned and took the mop from the floor and began to mop it up himself, grumbling that Julien needed to be cleaner. Afterward, he gave himself the same treatment.

Half an hour later, Kowalski and Rico returned to find Skipper up and about and just watching TV with Private no where in sight. Shortly, Private returned through the hatch, with two bowls of ice cream, one vanilla and the other chocolate. Black and white. He spotted the two tallest penguins with consternation and high spirits. "Hi, hehe, ice cream?"

"Ah, Private." Kowalski murmured. "Welcome back." Rico rolled his eyes and patted the tallest on the back, pointing out that Skipper was fine and could take care of himself. They watched as Private chatted amiably with Skipper over their bowls of ice cream. But Skipper seemed preoccupied with something parallel to white-hot rage. The two joined their friends and Skipper's anger seemed to cool to an even irritation.

"Do you mind if I ask you something, Skipper…" Kowalski began pensively, looking to Private and Rico for approval. The two nodded their say-so, listening intently as Skipper said he could. "Well, you seem somewhat, I don't know, _off,_ like there's something bothering you. There…wouldn't be, would there?"

Suddenly, Skipper feigned lethargy and promised to divulge the next morning. The three penguins were doubtful, but they could do little else besides wish him a good night sleep and join him.

"K'walski…wot did Marlene say?"

"She _alleged _that…" Kowalski paused; making sure the heavy breathing he heard was Skipper's. "Well, to put mildly, Private, Julien's feelings toward our leader are relatively complicated. Flanking something similar to love."

"_Love_?" Private repeated, confused. Private seemed to be discomfited. Between snores, Rico hacked instinctively, a sound both Private and Kowalski ignored.

"Indeed."

"What does it mean?"

"Technically? …I'm not sure."

And with that, they all fell into a broken slumber.


	3. A small revelation?

**Title: **Proposition**  
Fandom: **Penguins of Madagascar**  
Pairing(s): **Julien/Skipper, one sided Private/Skipper**  
Warning: **Sex scene, homosexuality, interspecies, furries**  
Summary:** It's been quite some time since Julien was in Madagascar, with all those lovely ladies and sometimes gentlemen falling over him, ready to sate his every desire, but now his only lemur plebeians are Mort and Maurice, and they simply will not do.

* * *

The next morning was comparably better than the last few, with the sun shining oh-so-brightly under the blanket of New York hazy smog. Skipper, as always, was the first to awaken. Like most mornings, he sat up sharply and jumped to the floor in a single bound. He instantly regretted it, almost yowling at the pain in his nether regions, hesitating to take a deep, cleansing breath and waddled over to his makeshift table. OW, pain. If it was the last thing Skipper did, he was going to hurt that SONOVA—

"Something the matter, Skipper?" Kowalski asked, sitting down beside his shorter companion. He appeared to have forgotten the last night's conversation, though Skipper doubted his luck. "You seem off." Kowalski eyed him unabashedly, examining for anything amiss with Skipper's facade.

Skipper twittered. "Oh, no, just…a little sore from…cleaning." He finished lamely, hiding his face with a flipper, clearing his throat.

Kowalski raised a brow, with a quiet, "Ah, I see." And said nothing further, until Private and Rico had awoken. They were curious, but not enough to encroach upon their leader's privacy, they hadn't forgotten, either. They ate breakfast amid the usual chatter and Skipper's mood seemed to lighten considerably. "Boys, why don't you go play capture the flag again, and I'll be there in a few minutes."

Private wanted to protest, but he only nodded obediently, and followed his fellow penguins out the tunnel. Skipper waited a few moments until slipping out of the HQ as well. He had decided to take Julien up on his offer.

At the lemur habitat, he found that Julien had sent Mort and Maurice away, supposedly to give himself some time alone. Although, he seemed quite happy to see Skipper. "Do you still have that numbing gel, ringtail?" The lemur grinned, nodding. "Good."

"Of course I am still having it, silly penguin, I knew you'd be coming by, sooneh or lateh." Julien admonished, twirling off to his kingly throne, plucking the bottle from the seat.

"Give it here." Skipper held out a wing.

"…" Julien was disappointed, but he handed it to the penguin without rebuke. Skipper sat down, and he followed suit, watching the lead penguin cheerfully. It soon became obvious that Skipper's flippers did not reach his sore bottom. "Um…I could…maybe help." He offered lightly, wincing when Skipper scoffed.

"No, no, I can get it." Skipper mumbled, though he was pretty sure himself that he couldn't do it alone. The only way he was going to allow Julien to touch him like that again was if Julien insisted.

Which was exactly what Julien did. "You're _not_ going to be able to be doing it with those tiniest wings." Julien narrowed an eye playfully, his whole demeanor teasing. "I could do it."

Skipper's cobalt eyes flitted from the bottle to Julien and back. He sighed and turned onto his stomach, leaving the lotion by his side. Feeling a little overwhelmed by how happy something like this made him, Julien threw some of the gel into his fingers and rubbed it gently around the rim. "How does that feel?" he whispered, gnawing on his tongue. Skipper only sighed in response. He pushed his fingers in, to apply a thick coating to the inside.

Skipper huffed in memory, only stopping when the fingers were removed. To his surprise, the lotion began to work almost without delay. Julien helped him sit up. "Now, here, Skipper, you can't be going off willy-nilly and all that, it just numbs all up, not make it go away. Don't be too rough."

Skipper sneered deridingly. "I think I know what I'm doing." He stood, wings at his middle.

"…" Julien looked as if he wanted to say more, but chose not to, deciding it best for Skipper to learn about it himself. "Okie dokie, if you say so."

"Which I do." Skipper waved a wing without due consideration and left, feeling better than he had in a while. Julien watched him worriedly.

The king pressed a paw to his sharp teeth, watching with ill ease as the penguin went off to meet the others. Perhaps…no, it wouldn't be right. It would be Skipper's own fault if he strained himself. But, somehow, he couldn't convince himself of that. Maurice and Mort, wherever they were, wouldn't be back until late, so he was free from questions. Just in case, he plucked the numbing gel from its place and jumped off into a tree to oversee the little game of capture the flag.

"Alright, boys, I'm back,"

Julien ignored the satisfied looks on the penguin's faces. He squinted to see Skipper's expression clearly, furrowing his brow. Skipper's back was to him, and so he got a good look at the soothing redness. Apparently, the other three penguins hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. They just looked as if they were thrilled that their leader had returned.

"Private, you're with me." Skipper flung a weak looking wing in the youngest bird's direction.

"Yay!" Private yipped gleefully.

"Rico, Kowalski; that makes you a team." He paused, then shuffled around suspiciously, eyeing the sky and ground. Kowalski mimicked him, whipping out his options clipboard, just in case. Seemingly sated, Skipper returned to his position and smirked. "Ready, men?"

"Yes, sir." The group chanted.

"Alright, let's move out. Rico, Kowalski, you two go to the primate exhibit." Skipper pointed in that direction, "Private and I will head to the dolphin exhibit." The playing field was no less than a diameter of 30 yards. That was toned down enough. "Rico?" Said penguin heaved a walky-talky into his own flippers, its black casing dripping in a green tinted slime. "Uh, take the device, Private."

"Ew…" the young penguin whined, but took it anyway, holding it barely by the antennae.

"I'll send the message when it's time to go."

In a flash, they were gone, hiding either in bushes or behind trees. Skipper and Private stood behind the tree Julien hovered in, and Julien made a point in hiding as deeply as possible in the foliage. With Skipper's intent paranoia, it would be best to stay out of sight.

Skipper beamed, peering past the exhibits to the flag, confident in his assured triumph. He never lost. He held the walky-talky to his beak. "GO!" he paused for a second. "Private?"

"Objective locked, sir. I've got a lock on the enemies, too." Private smiled unpretentiously, blinking through his flippers at the 'enemies' slithering their way across the zoo.

"Just what the doctor ordered. Move out." Skipper hopped to his stomach, and Private followed him, taking a path through weeds and grass. Just out of view, Kowalski and Rico were perched behind a tree. _Much_ closer than Skipper's team, heading them off by a few yards, at least.

Julien hopped from his tree to theirs. "Hey, there, you silly penguins!" he called, twirling his tail. The penguins glanced up at the sound with glares. He giggled, and pointed.

"YES, success!" Skipper bellowed, holding the banner high above his head. He took Private's wing and raised it as well. "How is the taste of defeat, over there?" he mocked openly as Kowalski and Rico, frowning, slunk back to their places at their leader's side. Clearly they were unhappy.

Julien was unhappy, too. The way Private's grin widened when Skipper took his flipper in his own told a whole tale. "Lookit that, with the hand…er, flipper holding. That should be _me_. _My_, er, _paw_ in his flipper. That roly-poly penguin is stepping all over my nerve…y things. Don't they know the king gets first picking?" He pulled his knees to his furry chest, indulging in self-pity.

Sharp eyesight caught Skipper's face change and a flicker of pain flash through his eyes. He couldn't help it, he sneered. Until he saw the anguish in those cobalt orbs, he jumped down to the grass, behind a bush. "PSSHHHH – Skipper!" he whispered.

Skipper, having been closer, heard, whilst the other three did not. He turned in dread. There _he_ was. "What?" he hissed back, being careful to distract his compadrés from his slip.

Full of desperate glee, Julien held up the lotion bottle, pointing at it proudly. Skipper drug a wing across his eyes, but consented. His lower regions were on fire. "Boys," he began, "Go on home, I'll meet you there. It's almost time to sleep, anyway." He looked thoughtfully up at the smog-blanketed sky.

"But, Skipper, you know we can't sleep without you there." Private complained, with both taller penguins confirming with a nod.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "I'll be there soon." He smirked, and, seeing the desperation in their eyes, added, "I _promise_. Cross my heart, hope to live." As soon as they were out of eyesight and earshot, Skipper slid off to Julien, his backside burning as he did so.

Before Skipper had arrived, Julien had wanted to boast, to say, "I told you so," but upon seeing the usually easily irritated Skipper even more irritable, well, he just didn't have the heart.

"…" Skipper sighed, he was the bigger animal, and the bigger animal always admits when he was wrong. "You were right."

"I was? Oh, I mean, of course I was." Julien scooted closer uneasily. "What was I right about?"

"I over exerted myself." Skipper threw his flippers into the air, visibly exhausted; he slumped. "I need a swim. And some popcorn."

"I _could_ use some popcorn." Julien settled, coating his hand with the lotion. He raised a brow at Skipper, who adjusted himself to his tummy. After the application, Julien hesitated. "That small penguin…"

At ease, and in a much-improved temper, Skipper sat up. "What, Private?"

"Yes…"

"What about him?"

"…I was just wondering." Julien fidgeted, biting his paw. Skipper raised his brows at the bizarre conduct.

"Spit it out, man!"

"Do you like him?"

"Do I like him? Sure, of course…" Julien appraised him with a peculiar glint in his eyes and his stomach fell into his intestines. "That's not what you meant." It was a statement.

Julien nodded.

"First and foremost, Private is still quite young. And second, _no_, he's a friend, nothing more." Skipper looked thoughtfully wary. "Why?"

Julien shrugged with an easier smile this time. "Oh, no reason…" But stopped cold once an odd expression passed across Skipper's face. "…haha, what? What is with the looking at me like that?"

"You sick little simian!" Skipper shouted, flipping to his feet. "If this is some wacky lemur courting ritual, I don't want to be any apart of it! If you wanted to seduce me, you would've had a better chance doing what everyone else does: flowers, dinner, and a movie." He paused and wondered if that sounded like he wasn't adverse to the idea, but went on nonetheless. "I'm out of here." He grumbled sinisterly.

Julien grimaced, flinching away from the undoubtedly upset penguin. Yet, the suggestion was implanting something into his mind. Something churned in his head, doing…head things. Was it a plan? YES! YES; no wait…YES! Julien hid his grin with a paw as Skipper turned to leave. The sight of his distinguished waddle urged that he ought to wait a day or two.

* * *

A/N: Next to last chapter, luv. Almost done. *wink*


	4. End

**Title: **Proposition**  
Fandom: **Penguins of Madagascar**  
Pairing(s): **Julien/Skipper, one sided Private/Skipper**  
Warning: **Sex scene, homosexuality, interspecies, furries**  
Summary:** It's been quite some time since Julien was in Madagascar, with all those lovely ladies and sometimes gentlemen falling over him, ready to sate his every desire, but now his only lemur plebeians are Mort and Maurice, and they simply will not do.

* * *

"Okay, so, which color is better? The reds," Maurice watched Julien hold up a bundle of presumably stolen roses, raising a brow, and rubbing his chin in thought. Mort giggled gleefully and let out a squeal of pure happiness. "Or the purples?" The next collection couldn't be described as purple, more of a reddish-bluish sort of flower. Probably Tibouchina (if you don't know what they look like, look it up on Google, or whichever search engine you want); Mort yipped approvingly.

"I don't know. I like 'em both, honestly." Maurice stood up, his bottom sore from sitting so long.

"I like them, too! Except I like them even MORE!" Mort's large eyes sparkled with delight, and this time Julien was too distracted to kick him. "I like them so much, you hate them!"

"But which kind?" Julien bemoaned, flopping to his knees dramatically, raising the bouquets above his head. "Tell me, sky spirits, TELL ME!"

Mort stood still, his tummy welling up with an unusual feeling. It rumbled lowly, and he distantly wondered if it was gas. "Use both of them!" Nope, just an idea.

"Both?" The lemur king repeated uncertainly.

Maurice smirked. "Hey, yeah, that's actually not a _bad_ idea."

"YAY!"

"Both?" Julien said again, louder and much more secure. "That's perfect!" he gushed lightly, patting his chest. "Oh, I'm so glad I thought of that."

Both Mort and Maurice uttered not a word, just nodded and (mostly on Maurice's part) faked marvel. "Eh, good idea." Maurice grimaced; he hated giving up what was rightfully his, or Mort's, as it were, but it was necessary to preserve Julien's calm exterior and interior. Any sort of "rebellion" was instantly perceived as a threat and destroyed (or **paddled**, Maurice still stung from the last time he "revolted").

The lemur plebeians watched with interest as their king took half from the roses, then half from the Tibouchinas and mixed them thoroughly, being extra careful with the stems. Upon finishing, Julien held the flowers up into the air, pleased and proud with himself. "Well?"

"I like it!"

"It's, uh, great, your highness (gag)."

"Yes, I know, I just like hearing." Julien fondled the soft down of a rose petal, amazed by the sensation, "I just wonder if Skipper will like them half as much."

"I'm _sure_ he will." Maurice encouraged him hopefully. If not, there would be many nights of moping and excruciating mourning for 'what could have been'. Drama queen (sometimes minus drama).

Julien humphed, "You are just telling me what you are thinking I want to be hearing." He retorted, although grateful for the boost.

"He'll LOVE them as much as I do!" Mort added triumphantly, making a slow move for Julien's feet. Maurice grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him back, rolling his red eyes.

Sucking in a large gust of oxygen rich air, Julien's chest puffed out. "Wishing to me da good luck, loyal subjects."

"Good luck!"

"Break a leg."

Julien gasped, pausing in his kingly stride to glare at the larger boned of the three lemurs. "Maurice, telling me to BREAK my legs is _hardly_ a booster…"

"No that's not…" Maurice insisted, then sighed, "Never mind. Good luck."

Julien only 'm'hm'ed an acknowledgment, and hopped from his habitat. Once at the penguin's place of residency, it was only a matter of getting Skipper out. What was worse was that roly-poly penguin was playing sentinel. "Move it, penguin, I am needing to get by. There are certain matters that need attending to!" He faltered shortly to delicately hide the vegetation behind his back. Private, curious, peered around him, much to the monarch's chagrin. "What?" he spat.

Embarrassed, Private nimbly bounded into place, tapping the tips of his flippers together. "It's just…Skippah said not to let any lemurs by, and since you're a lemur…" he let it hang in the air to do his dirty work for him.

Julien scoffed. "I don't care, shut up." He flippantly waved the flowers, then urgently hid them again to wave with his free hand. "I just want to speak with Skipper."

"Wholl, he doesn't wont ta see _you_." Private parried, holding up his flippers, preparing to defend Skipper's orders to the death.

Growing frustrated by the minute, Julien pointed in the general direction of the elephant's cage. "Oh my gosh, da elephants freaking out!"

Alarmed, Private turned, and Julien pushed the penguin off the platform and into the water below. "Hahaha, take dat!" he heckled even as Private, annoyed, pushed to the surface, brows making a clean V over his eyes.

"No fair!" Private complained scrambling up the rock to keep Julien from his prize.

Only it was too late, Skipper was sliding out of the tunnel, throwing the bowl away as he did. He tumbled directly into the waiting mammal, and blanched at the sight of the flowers. No freakin' way. "Ringtail!" he shouted, unsurprised, but clearly aggravated, eyeing the flowers with inadequately veiled awareness. "State your business."

Julien pushed the foliage into the penguin's stubborn gaze until he took them warily. "I got those for you." He said, his voice strained. He had really liked those flowers. They were HIS, after all. But then, if you give something of yours to something else of yours, does that still make it yours? Probably. It hurt to think about it too in depth, though. "Just like you said, flowers, dinner and a movie."

"Puh-lease, you've got to be kidding." Skipper groaned, feeling ridiculous holding such a large, over the top posy. The look in Julien's eyes convinced him he wasn't.

"I most certainly am NOT kidding!" Julien yelled, highly offended. Little…never mind.

Private toddled up close to Skipper unbelievingly. Those flowers? For Skipper? "Wot's goin' on?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to upset Skipper any further. Just then, Kowalski and Rico appeared at their sides with questioning stares. Kowalski found it prudent to stand and wait. Rico coddled his doll for comfort.

"Going to a movie and dinner." Julien smirked, swollen with conceit.

"What? I didn't agree to any such thing!" Skipper shouted, but for some reason couldn't manage to throw the flowers back at the simian. Instead, he relinquished them to Kowalski, who obtained them without inquiry. Private peeked enviously up at him, so indifferently shrewd. He crossed his arms and pouted like the child he was.

"You did not have to – I saw it in your _**EYES**_." Julien said wryly and without any remorse. "Besides, you said dat is how usual courting is…" he allowed their heads to fill in the rest, because to be frank, he wasn't sure where he was going with that.

"Courting?" Kowalski finally spoke up, perplexed, and taking a long look at the flowers in his flippers. "As in the attempt to try to win influence with somebody or to win somebody's approval or favor through flattery or attentiveness? Usually through gifts and, uh, dates?"

Skipper moaned loudly, "Ugh!" he cried to the heavens, asking himself _why me?_ "You want a _date_?"

Julien mulled it over, and realized that, yes, that was correct. "Ha, _yes_! Are you a mind reader?" He ribbed, squinting an eye in mock anger and wagging a finger gently at the penguins.

"No."

"Eh, what?" He slumped.

"I _said_ no."

"B-but…" Julien challenged to keep his cool, rallying behind himself as his heart burst in his chest. "You said…"

"Forget what I said, _right now_ I'm saying NO. Get over it." Skipper added pitilessly. Well, pitilessly until he saw the heart-broken look Julien's face had become. Even Rico admitted it was making him sick to look at. So he wandered off with his doll.

The lemur's whole form slumped in defeat. "I spend hours picking those and you say NO! Intolerable!" Julien dropped to his stomach, grabbing Skipper's webbed feet desperately. "Pleeeeee-he-eeeeeeaaaaaaassssssssse! Maurice told me you'd _like_ them! You don't do you!?"

Hours, really. Skipper's brows raised nonetheless and he rubbed his neck guiltily. There was only so much pathetic begging one could take. "Okay, fine." He grumbled. Kowalski coughed in surprise into the flowers, scattering the petals in a shower over the two lovebirds. Rico wasn't even there and he gagged. Private, however, almost screamed. **_What?_** "But only because you're pathetically begging." Skipper added.

Julien recovered quickly, tapping his paws together, ashamed. "I wouldn't say _pathetically_…"

"_I _would"

"Okay, it's just a word."

Skipper smirked as Julien began to herd him away, already planning their meals in the future. "Don't wait up, boys, I'll be back (probably fairly soon). Take some time off." A generous gesture, considering.

Kowalski watched, frowning, but decided it was probably for the best. In-team relations weren't the most sensible breed of affairs out there. Private, on the other hand, didn't think the same way. He gaped after the couple with frantic resentment. "K-K'walski," he muttered and the taller penguin peered down with an unsure hum. "D'you think Skippah will fall for it?"

Fall for it? Kowalski smirked. "I have to be straightforward, here, Private. Skipper just doesn't feel the same way for you as you do for him."

Private moped. "Why _Julien_? Why _him_? Why not _me_?" Private whined childishly, finding no connection between his behavior and the 'why's.

Kowalski chuckled involuntarily. "You're still a fledgling." Kowalski advised, and Rico, just coming back into sight, nodded with an "Uh-huh." "And even if you were to grow up suddenly, there's a definite possibility he'll always think of you as a chick. It's to be expected. Just as _I'm_ only a 'friend' to Doris. It can't be helped and we need to learn to let it be that way. Try to be satisfied knowing that you're an irreplaceable friend." It was then that Kowalski wasn't just saying it for Private, he was also saying it for his own benefit. Something clicked inside both of them and they shared a smoldering sigh. Private was probably never going to get Skipper, and Doris was going to be far from Kowalski's reach.

"I guess so." Private released a breath, drowning in the feeling of having been deserted even before a relationship began. "Thanks."

"Any time."

---

Hours later, the three penguins that had been left behind slept soundly where they had laid, not in the bunks when Skipper was there, but willy-nilly and not at all orderly. Trash littered the floor, and Rico burped a skate up in his slumber. Kowalski was the nearest to the bunks, laying halfway into the bottom bed. Private sat upright in front of a glaring television.

Skipper arrived home feeling an odd sort of peace, and, much to his shock, agreed to do it again with a gleeful Julien. It hadn't been half-bad. Upon catching sight of the mess his boys had left, took the breath out of him in disappointment. He thought they knew better. Apparently not.

Yet, he decided not to wake them. They'd get a good berating in the morning. For now, though, he was tired and deserved a rest. He gently lolled Private onto his side, and covered him up with a genial grin. Such a baby, still, he realized. To Rico, he unwrapped the flippers around the hard plastic doll and replaced her with a plushie of himself (c'mon, he was adorable!). He reckoned it would be much more comforting. To Kowalski, well, he just pushed the knucklehead's head off of his bunk and onto a pillow, and repeated the act onto the rest, covering them all up and saving himself for last.

"G'night, boys." He slurred and promptly fell asleep, eerily content.

---

At the lemur exhibit, Julien was raving about his "date" with Skipper. Maurice took it as a good sign that his king was so jubilant. Better than depression. "Let's BOOGIE!" Julien cried to the heavens and turned on the radio. Only, less deafening, making sure _HIS_ penguin would get a pleasant sleep and the lemurs danced long into the night and early morning hours.

* * *

A/N: **END**. If you liked this, I _could _do a sequel. Ya know, established relationship. Maybe have a jealous Private and more of Doris/Kowalski. Poor things. I'm mean to them. It can't be helped. Private is too young, anyway, but that doesn't mean Private has to lay down and watch the one he loves in someone else's arms (especially Julien's, lmao). What a _card_, I am. Go ahead, laugh with me.

Just kidding, it's not funny.


End file.
